Viral Zone
by TheVampireMaharet
Summary: What happens when Johnny Smith gets the flu? UPDATED!! Chapter 4 up!
1. Grocery Store

Disclaimer:  I don't own The Dead Zone.  That privilege belongs to Stephen King and the USA Network.  

A/N:  Hope you guys like this!  Please R&R!  Oh!  In case the italicizing doesn't show up, Johnny's visions are marked with *!

VIRAL ZONE By InsaneGenius 

**Chapter 1.  Grocery Stores**

            "Achoo!"sneezed a girl of about five years old into the face of the last person you'd expect to see at a public grocery store:  Johnny Smith.  The little girl looked up guiltily at first Johnny and then her mother.  The mother shot a quick glance at Johnny before recognition dawned upon her.  She then tugged her daughter forcefully away.

            "Sorry about that mister.  She didn't mean too," she said abruptly.

            "Mommy, can I have one of these please?" asked the little girl, "you promised me that I could have whatever I want since I got sick."

            "No sweetie put those up."

            The little girl obeyed and it wasn't long before the little girl and her mother were out of sight.  But they weren't out of mind, or at least not out of the mind of Johnny Smith.

            Johnny stared ahead at the spot where the five year old had sneezed into his face.  He hadn't budged much.  Anyone who knew him well might have though he was experiencing a vision of some sot, but if truth were told he was just lost in deep thought.  Thoughts that didn't require the use of his Dead Zone.  He had once again been reminded of why he had a grocery boy deliver groceries to his house every now and then.  The people in his own hometown treated him like some sort of freakish, smelly animal you didn't want to get too close to for fear of catching something horrible and contagious.  He would almost give anything to not have an extra part of his brain working just to avoid the sneers and skepticism he had to endure on a daily basis.

            He was jerked out of his momentary reverie when a voice on the intercom announced that the store would be closing in fifteen minutes.  He limped over to his shopping cart full of food and started to push it in the same direction the girl and her mother had taken previously.  He stopped when he noticed a jar of Chef Boyardee Ravioli lying on its side.  Thinking back, he concluded that this must have been what the little girl had begged her mother to buy.  She hadn't been thinking about who Johnny was.  Maybe that was who is new best friends would be: little five year olds who didn't know any better.

            Without really paying the action much thought, he grabbed the can of Ravioli and was suddenly warped into a vision.

            *_He watched as he saw somebody lying on a couch eating chicken noodle soup and sneezing ferociously.  He was taken aback when he saw the man dash to the nearby bathroom door, and as the sick man did this he realized that the man was himself.  He glanced around for some sort of clue as to when this would happen.  He looked down at his vision self's watch as he was throwing up in the toilet.  The date read March 29.*_

And then as if it had never happened, he was back in the grocery store, the Ravioli can clutched firmly in his hand.

            "March 29," he thought out loud, "That's only three days from now.  Well, I guess it's time for me to answer the age-old question.  What happens when you Dead Zone gets sick?"

Okeday, so what'd ya think?  Please tell me!  This is my first Dead Zone fic so please, no flames!


	2. Lunch With Dana

**Disclaimer:  Although I really wish I did, I don't own The Dead Zone.  That honor belongs to Stephen King and the USA Network.**

A/N:  Okay… Here's the next installment to my fic!  Hope you like it!  I was really bored in school today so I started writing it during second period and finished it when I got home!  Please R&R!

VIRAL ZONE 

**By InsaneGenius**

**Chapter 2: Lunch with Dana**

**March 27, 2003**:

            "So Doc, what's this virus gonna do to me?" Johnny asked Dr. Helen Gibson.

            "Well, we can't be too sure yet.  We have to wait for the lab results to come back.  So far everything looks normal, for you anyways," she replied, smiling back at him, "I'll call you when we hear anything."

            "Thanks, Helen."

            Johnny hopped off the doctor's table, grabbed his cane and walked out the door.  He hurried out of the hustle and bustle of the ever-busy hospital and headed to his jeep.  He was planning to meet Dana for lunch in fifteen minutes, and if traffic was as bad as it had been on the way up to the hospital, then chances were that he'd be late.  That was the last thing he needed.  Dana and he had been walking on enough thin ice already, and he didn't need any more excuses for Dana to break up with him.

            He was planning on meeting her at a local hamburger restaurant called The Burger Grill, which was a restaurant that they both enjoyed.  He had never received a bad cheeseburger from the Grill, and Dana was particularly fond of their chicken tenders.

            He parked his car in an open space located near the front of the building, which gave him a quicker and easier trot indoors.  Not to mention the fact that his leg was hurting him a little bit more than normal, so he didn't really feel much like walking.

            He spotted Dana toward the back of the restaurant in a fairly secluded booth.  Dana knew how much Johnny liked his privacy.

            "You're right on time.  I thought for sure you'd be late," she said.

            "I thought I would be too," he replied, "Sorry, for nearly being late.  I had to run by the hospital real quick."

            "Why?" she asked with a concerned look on her face, "You're alright aren't you?"

            "Well, I am right now, but on March 29 I won't be."

            "Off the record, what's happening on March 29?" she asked, smiling.

            "I'm gonna a cold or the flu or something like that."

            "Hey!  That would make a great story 'Local Psychic Catches the Flu'," she said sounding like the reporter that she was, "How do you know that?"

            Johnny just glanced up at her with a look on his face that clearly said you know exactly how I know.

            "What'd you do?  Touch something in the hospital and see yourself throwing up?" she asked jokingly.

            "Close, but no cigar.  Actually a little girl in the grocery store sneezed on me.  When I touched a can of ravioli she had been holding, I got a vision of myself sick.  I went to see Dr. Gibson because I wasn't sure what it would do to my Dead Zone.  She's not really sure yet though," he answered her nervously.

            He, like most people, hated being sick, and he was almost certain that having an active Dead Zone wouldn't make things much better.  In fact, he had a very bad feeling about the days to come.  There was no telling exactly what could happen with a sick Dead zone.  His encounter with mind-altering drugs had been a bad enough experience.  The thought of a virus seemed much, much worse to him.

            "Excuse me, sir.  Here's your cheeseburger, and your chicken tenders ma'am.  If you need anything, please ask," said the waitress as she handed Johnny and Dana their lunch.

            "Thank you, ma'am,"Johnny said appreciatively.

            As she walked away, Johnny felt a tickle in his nose and began to sneeze.  As he covered his mouth in preparation, he was suddenly in the middle of a vision.

            *_He was standing beside Dana, who was talking to someone on the phone.  She looked a wreck.  Her face was pale and her cheeks slightly flushed.  Lying beside her was a small pile of used Kleenexes._

_            "I'm not going to be able to come into work today, Boss," she said hoarsely, "I've got a bad cold, and I don't really feel up to a trip down to the office."*_

All of this took place in the time period of one sneeze.  When he came out of the vision, he felt terrible.  His throat hurt, and his head was pounding.  His nose felt like it could never be completely clear again.  All he wanted to do was curl up in bed and go to sleep.

            "Johnny, what's wrong?  You really don't look so good," questioned Dana.

            "I'm fine.  Really.  I just got a weird vision, when I sneezed, of you the last time you were sick," he replied trying to shrug it off.  He still felt completely miserable.  He hoped the effects of the vision would wear off soon.

            "You know, you look about the way I felt.  Are you sure you're all right?  Maybe you should swing by the hospital again on the way back to your place."

            "I'll be fine.  It was just a vision.  It's not like I _feel_ sick," said the stubborn man.

            Dana knew better than to think he was truly fine.  Johnny wasn't telling her the whole truth.  She may not be a psychic, but she knew her psychic, and something was up.

            " I'm gonna be fine.  I really am," he said around a mouthful of his cheeseburger.

            He really didn't feel that bad anymore.  It was strange.  Of course, everything with him was strange.  After all, not many people had visions when they touched things or sneezed.  But this had been stranger than normal.  One moment he had felt completely horrible, and the next minute he was fine.  It was probably just his Dead Zone's way of warning him of the fun days to come.

            "Well, you should at leat call her and tell her what happened, and if she wants you to come back down then you go but if she, like you, believes it to be nothing, then you can just forget about it and go home.  Come on , John.  Don't be so difficult," she reasoned.

            Dana realized she had struck a point in Johnny's mind.  Even he saw some logic in that statement.  Yes, he was definitely hiding something about that vision.  He had it written all over his face.  He was being too stubborn and just plain _male _to admit it.  He'd probably tell Dr. Gibson just because she's his doctor.

            "I'll think about it."

            Typical Johnny response.  "No, you'll do it.  Now.  I want to see you dialing Dr. Gibson's number before I leave to go back to work.  I know you, Johnny.  You won't call, you're too stubborn," she quickly retorted.

            "Fine.  If it'll make you feel better about it.  Good grief."

            He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the cell phone Sarah had given to him.  He dialed the hospital number, and was soon talking to the secretary who was currently on duty.  She gave him Dr. Gibson's extension (because he had forgotten it) and he was placed shortly on hold.

            "Dr. Gibson," she said professionally.

            "Uh… Hi.  It's me, Johnny."

            "John, if you're calling about your blood work, it's not back yet.  You only left an hour ago."

            "It's not that.  I just had a really weird vision," he said back.

            "John, all of your visions are weird."

            " Well this one was weirder.  When I sneezed a couple of minutes ago I had a vision of Dana the last time she was sick, and afterwards I felt really… strange," he explained.

            "Define strange."

            "I felt really awful.  My throat hurt, my head hurt, and my nose was all stuffed up.  It lasted for about five minutes, and then I just felt completely fine all of a sudden."

            "Tell you what.  Why don't you come back here again when you leave and I'll give you another once over.  This could be serious," she said seriously.

            "Alright," Johnny resigned.

            Dana looked up at Johnny as he shut off his cell phone.

            "I _knew_ you weren't telling me everything."

            Johnny glared at her.  Another trip to the hospital was the last thing he wanted at the time.

 A/N: Well, hope you guys enjoyed that!  Please R&R!  More reviews = More chapters!  You know, I think I've been reading the scripts for The Dead Zone on the Internet too much.  I almost started writing this like one!  lol!  


	3. Meeting at the Hospital

**Disclaimer:  I don't own the Dead Zone.  That right belongs to USA Network and Stephen King.**

A/N:  I've finally finished chapter 3 of my fic!  I've been working on it and the first chapter of another fic all week off and on.  I hope you like it!  I'll try to have more soon!

VIRAL ZONE By InsaneGenius 

**Chapter 3:  Meeting at the hospital**

"Ouch!" yelled Sarah Bannerman as she dropped the knife previously used to dice a few select vegetables for a fresh, garden salad.  She had been in the middle of chopping up her cucumbers when her hand had slipped causing her to accidentally slice up the palm of her hand with her knife.  The wound was gushing blood.  She located a towel next to the stove and began to apply pressure to the deep gash.

            There was blood everywhere.  On the sink, on her shirt, and even on the salad.  

"So much for the salad," she thought, "Walt will just have to do without it."

She was planning on attending a press conference with Greg Stillson later in the evening, and Walt couldn't attend; therefore, she was forced to prepare dinner early so that he wouldn't have to eat out.  She was sure he could probably do without the salad one night for a change.

The car she normally drove was in the shop or as JJ liked to call it the "car doctor's office."  The only vehicle they had currently running was Walt's cop car, so Greg was supposed to pick her up any minute now. The neighbors were babysitting JJ for now.  Greg was supposed to be there any minute.  Perfect time for her to start bleeding.  

She fished around in the first aid kit they had placed under the sink for a butterfly bandage to stick on it.  Her search yielded nothing.  All they had were Band-Aids.  She was better up messing up her towel.  She had been saying for ages that they needed to replenish their stock and to maybe add a few new things.  She didn't think she would forget to do that anymore, especially not with a little reminder on her hand.

The doorbell rang quite suddenly causing her to drop the towel to the floor.  She leaned down, careful not to spill an ounce more of blood on her clothes, and replaced the towel to its former position.  

She peeked through her window and noticed a black car with Sonny Elliman beside it.  That meant Greg Stillson was on the other side of the door as she had anticipated.  Fumbling one handedly with the lock, she slowly but surely opened the door.

"Hey, Sarah!  Well, are you all ready to…" he asked exuberantly at first until his eyes spotted the blood stain on what was once a freshly laundered white shirt, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine.  I just cut myself while trying to make a salad for Walt.  It's no big deal," she reassured him.

"I don't know about that.  That looks pretty bad to me.  Why don't we run by the hospital real quick and let them look that over," he replied with a very concerned look on his face, "After all Sarah, you are my conscience.  I wouldn't want anything to happen to my conscience.  Come on.  The press conference isn't for another hour.  The hospital's only five minutes away.  And they'll understand if we're a little late."

"Oh all right," she said.

She grabbed her purse and they walked down to the parked car.  After seeing their approach, Sonny jumped up and opened the car door for Sarah, letting her into the passenger side of the car.  Greg ducked into the vehicle shortly afterwards and told Sonny their new destination.  

*

Dana sat patiently outside of the waiting room in the Neurology center of the hospital.  She was starting to get a little bit bored.  She feared that Johnny would have another one of his weird "sick" visions on the road and didn't want to see him in another coma because of a car wreck.  So she called her boss and asked for the day off to escort Johnny up to the hospital.  Her boss jumped on it, as she knew he would, saying that she could find another story from her psychic friend.  But of course, she wasn't going to do that to Johnny.  She knew he liked his privacy and hated the way every reporter in the town jumped all over him every time he made a move.  She regretted that she was ever one of those such reporters.  Although, she did understand where they came from.  After all, she had started the whole "Johnny Craze" as she called it.  

She hoped Johnny wouldn't be too much longer, or rather that Dr. Gibson wouldn't be too much longer.  She'd already spent a long time up at the hospital.  They had arrived there at 1:30 and it was now 4:00.  And as is usually the case with hospitals, an hour and a half of that had been spent waiting in those stiff and uncomfortable chairs.  

Her hopes seemed to be coming true because a moment after thinking this, Dr. Gibson, followed closely by Johnny, came walking out the door.

"Johnny, I don't like this.  I don't like this one bit.  When you sneezed in there a minute ago, your temperature really spiked.  You went from a normal 98.6 to a whopping 102.5.  You need to stay here," she said, trying to talk some sense into him.

"Dr. Gibson, please.  I feel absolutely fine now.  And besides, being in a hospital is the last place I need to be.  Hospitals are full of people, and _sick_ people at that.  When I sneeze, I'm getting visions of _sick_ people.  I won't get those at home," Johnny reasoned. 

Dana had to admit.  He did have a point.

"Johnny…," sighed Dr. Gibson.  She spotted Dana and shot her a glance that said quite plainly "please help me."

Dana sighed and looked up at both Johnny and Dr. Gibson.  They both had a point.  Johnny didn't know if this thing with his Dead Zone would quit at home or not, and if it didn't and if he were to get a temperature higher than 102 just because of some vision, than that would be bad.  But then again, his visions were mainly initiated by people, so naturally if he wasn't around any than he wouldn't have them.

"Johnny maybe you should at least think about it.  Why don't we take a walk outside and get some fresh air?  It'll help you clear your mind a little bit," she said.

"Fine.  I could use a little bit of a walk.  But not too far, my leg's killing me."

Dana got up and stretched a little and then followed Johnny out of the hallway.  Johnny had a pensive look upon his face.  It wasn't the look he got when he had a vision, but she knew he was lost deep in thought.

"What ya thinking about?" she asked.

"Exactly what you said to think about.  To go or not to go.  That is the question," he grinned.

She laughed at this.

"I think you should stay.  We shouldn't fool around when it comes to your Dead Zone."

"Have you been talking to Bruce? Cause he said about the same thing when I accidentally inhaled Ketamine," he looked at her with a wondering look on his face.

"No, I haven't.  I just care about you."

They had to pass by the emergency room on their way outdoors.  As they journeyed through, she noticed Sarah with a bloody towel held over one hand, sitting next to Sonny and Greg.  She didn't believe Johnny had noticed.  He was staring as the EMT's rushed through carrying a person on a gurney that had obviously seen better days.  She walked towards Sarah, toting Johnny along with her.  

"What?  Where are we going?" he asked confused.  But then he looked up and answered his question for himself as he saw Sarah sitting there for the first time.  His look shot to Sonny and Greg.  She could have sworn his face paled when he saw the latter.

"Sarah, what happened to your hand?" Dana asked.

Greg, who had been before oblivious of there presence, said, "Why doesn't Johnny touch her?  He could find out for himself.  So go ahead John."

Johnny scanned all of their faces.  The rivalry he had going with Greg forced him into it.  He reached over to Sarah and touched an area of the towel that wasn't bloodied up yet.  His eyes grew blank as he just stared for a moment.  Suddenly, he looked up and said, "You were making a salad for Walt.  You were in the middle of cutting up a cucumber when your hand slipped and you cut yourself with a knife,"

"You never cease to amaze me.  That was exactly how it happened.  So, it's my turn to ask a question, and I'm not psychic, so you're gonna have to tell me," said Sarah talking as she would to a young child.

He filled them in on the last day, and as he figured, he was met with more anxiety.

Dana realized this might be her one and only chance to get Johnny to listen to reason.  Between the two of them, they ought to be able to anyway.

Johnny shot quick glances back and forth from Sarah and Dana noticing the same look on their faces.

"No, way.  I'm not staying, and don't think for a second that I'll change my opinion just because you two are ganging up on me," he said more stubbornly than ever.

"Johnny, remember what happened when you inhaled those mind-altering drugs on accident while looking for that runaway girl?  You refused to stay at the hospital then, and you ended up in bad shape.  I don't want anything like that to happen again," she said very convincingly.

Dana read Johnny's face.  He was almost about to give in.  For a moment, she really though he would.  Then he got that look in his eyes again that always meant he wasn't giving in.  She looked over at Greg.  Greg had this calculating look upon his.  She had observed that he was completely surprised when Sarah mentioned the mind-altering drugs.  

"Look, I'm not staying at a hospital.  I just need to go home.  That's all I want," he said rather sharply.

"Sarah Bannerman," called the emergency nurse reading a chart.  

"You should at least consider it," she glared.

Sarah pushed herself out of the chair and followed the nurse into a back room.

Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last time, Dana took one annoyed look at Johnny and sighed.

**A/N:  Well!  Please tell me what you think!**


	4. Debate

**DISCLAIMER:  I DON'T OWN THE DEAD ZONE.  THAT RIGHT BELONGS TO THE USA NETWORK.**

**A/N:  Well here it is folks!  I've been working on this off and on for the past couple of weeks in my spare time.  Now, in case you're wondering I'm trying to test out my writing abilities with every character.  In each chapter I want to include a portion of the story from the viewpoint of a different major character.  So far I've got Johnny, Dana, Sarah, and now Bruce.  And for those of you who noticed, I didn't mean to call Dr. Gibson Helen in a previous chapter.  Lol  I realized a couple of days ago that her real name was Janet.  It took me awhile to figure out where I got the name Helen from.  There was an elderly woman who used to attend my church that was named Helen Gibson.  Lol  I hope you have enjoyed this and continue to enjoy this!  Please R&R!  **

VIRAL ZONE 

**By InsaneGenius**

**Chapter 4:  Debate**

Bruce watched Johnny as he limped around the house the next morning.  His limp was more pronounced than ever.  This meant Johnny could look forward to some serious physical therapy.  Right now, Johnny was stalling.  He was trying his hardest to avoid the intensification of the pain in his leg.  He gave him an "A" for effort.

            "Come on Johnny, We've got to get started.  We've lost enough time as it is," he said rather sternly.

            "I'm starting to feel really bad, man.  I'm not up to a 'physical torture' session right now," said Johnny pleadingly.

            "Yeah right.  Enough stalling.  Let's get a move on," said Bruce with much exuberance.

            "I'm serious, Bruce.  I really don't feel well.  I'm getting the Flu."

            Bruce cast him a questioning glance.

            "The Flu?  How do you…" he stopped mid sentence and looked up at Johnny as the impact of Johnny's statement hit him in the face.

            "You had a vision didn't you?"

            "Yeah," and then Johnny abruptly added, "And before you say anything, I've already been to the doctor.  Twice.  Don't think for a minute I'm going back."

            "You serious?  You?  Doctor?" he responded incredulously, " That's like an oxymoron.  Who blackmailed you into going?"

            "Well nobody the first time, but Dana sort of did the second time."

            "And what did the doctor say?"

            Johnny may have actually gone to the doctor, but Bruce new better than to think that Johnny had listened to whatever she said.

            "She said I should probably… well she didn't really say anything," he replied with a guilty look on his face.

            Johnny had to be the worst liar Bruce had ever met.  It was always glaringly obvious whenever he attempted to lie, and it was glaringly obvious now.  Bruce decided not to say anything and instead rolled his eyes with frustration.  He didn't press for any more information.  Past experiences had taught him that the most effective way to determine "Zone" information was to talk to the medical staff of the Neurology Department himself.

            "Well whatever man.  If you really do feel bad than I guess I can excuse you from 'Physical torture' for a couple of days.  But after that, you're going for the work out of your life."

            He jabbed Johnny in the shoulder with this last statement for the emphasis of his point.

            Upon contact, Johnny suddenly looked off to the side with that far away look in his eyes that could mean only one thing:  a vision.  He stayed that way for at least a minute.  When he came out of his "trance" Bruce could tell whatever he had seen wasn't good.

            "Bruce, don't go to the hospital.  There's gonna be an accident and you're gonna total the Cruiser."

            "What?!" asked Bruce vehemently, "My Cruiser?!  You realize, of course John that if my Cruiser were to get totaled it would be your fault because the only reason I was planning to go to the hospital today was because you didn't tell me what the doctor said!"

            After blowing up at Johnny, Bruce thought about Johnny's vision.  This was actually good news.  Because of course he wouldn't go to the hospital now.  He knew to take Johnny's visions seriously.  Instead of doing murder on his Cruiser, this would do murder on Johnny's conscience.  In fact, it was already doing murder.  Johnny's face held a look of deep thought.  He looked appalled at the idea that he was nearly the reason for an accident.  Bruce didn't have to be a psychic to know that his admission of guilt was coming soon.  He hoped Johnny felt really horrible for nearly causing the death of his beloved Cruiser.

            Johnny sighed, "Alright, man.  You win."

            Bruce grinned.

            "She said I should probably stay at the hospital because I keep having visions whenever I sneeze.  There you go.  You happy now?"  admitted Johnny angrily.

            "Both me and my Cruiser are both very much happy," he laughed.

            Johnny quickly retorted.

            "Good for you.  Maybe, if you had gotten hit by a car you could have gone into a coma and awakened with visions.  Then maybe you could go save the world from a seemingly inevitable apocalypse and a psychopath senator."

            They both chuckled at this.

            It was at that point in time that Johnny sneezed.  His already slightly pale face turned abruptly sheet white.

            "Oh no," Bruce said worriedly, "Johnny, speak to me.  Are you alright?"

            "I'm… fine," he gasped as he trembled slightly.

            Johnny's lungs were rising up and down quickly.  He appeared as though he couldn't get a breath of air into his lungs.  It was almost as if he were having an asthma attack, but Johnny didn't have asthma.  Bruce himself had asthma though…  Then, with as much alacrity as it had come, the "asthma attack" seemed to leave him.

            "What just happened, John?"

            He was still struggling a little bit for breath, "I told you I had visions when I sneeze, right? Well… I got… a vision of you having an asthma attack… I didn't know you had asthma."

            "So you got a vision of me having an asthma attack, and then you actually _had_ an asthma attack.  I see now why Dr. Gibson wanted you to stay in the hospital."

            "It only happens when I'm around people.  I've sneezed at least a dozen times today and this is the first time it's happened.  Like I told Dr. Gibson, being around a hospital full of sick people will make it worse.  I've got enough stuff here to be all right for a while.  I'll be fine," replied Johnny stifling any other debate.

            Bruce looked down at his watch.  It was nine.  He had another patient to take care of in thirty minutes.  He would have argued more with Johnny otherwise.

            "We'll talk about this later.  I gotta go to another patient.  Don't sneeze anymore."

            Johnny nodded in return.

            "I'll try not to.  See ya later, man."

                                                            ******

            It had been an hour since Bruce had left in a hurry.  Johnny was sitting quietly on his couch, reading a book.  The X-Files just didn't really seem appealing at the moment for some reason.   The book he was reading was _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire._  He was nearing the point in the book where Harry was to face the first challenge in the Triwizard Tournament.  They were children's books, but he found them to be very entertaining, and they helped to take his mind off of his current predicament.  

            He took a time out from his book and started to ponder something that had been on his mind.  Why had Bruce never mentioned he had asthma?  Asthma is serious, and from what he had felt it was something he was glad he didn't have.  He couldn't remember feeling so scared in all of his life.  He thought for sure he was going to die.  He couldn't get any air into his lungs.  He had felt as though he had been drawing air through a pinched straw.  It was one of the most horrible feelings he could recall ever having.  He prayed he didn't have any more visions of that sort.  Two were enough.     

            This led him to his next question.  This one had been bugging him for the past two days.  He caught the flu once when he was ten.  He never remembered throwing up ever, and he certainly wasn't having a vision of himself the last time he was sick.  The last time he had been sick was about a year before the coma.  He remembered having Strep Throat.  Maybe this Flu would be worse.  Who knew?  He didn't.  And he was supposed to be the one that could see the future.

            He tried to continue his reading but he found he was distracted and just couldn't continue.  His head was starting to hurt.  He already had a clogged nose, and a little bit of a sore throat.  It was going to be a long couple of days.  He was already tired of sitting around the house.  How was he supposed to keep that up?  Maybe he didn't have to.  He _could _go out somewhere, anywhere just today.  He wasn't feeling _that_ bad, and he could see if that trick on cartoons really works.  The trick where you stick your hand underneath your nose and you don't sneeze.  Why hadn't he thought of this before?  He could go out to at least rent a couple of movies or something, and maybe get something to eat.  His appetite wasn't quite gone yet.  That would work.  His plans set in motion, he grabbed his leather jacket and his car keys and hurried out the door.

            It didn't take too long to drive to the nearby Blockbuster.  He had realized a couple of days ago that he had not yet caught up on the latest Star Wars movies.  In fact, he wasn't even aware of their existence until then.  Both Dana and Bruce had given them "two thumbs up."  Those would be perfect.  

            He browsed through the other videos and saw two more that stuck out to him.  They were called The Mummy and The Mummy Returns.  They both looked interesting, so he placed them upon his ever-growing collection of videos.  And finally, after fifteen more minutes of searching he discovered The Sixth Sense.  This one seemed absolutely perfect.  After all, many people said he himself had a sixth sense.  

            He presented the movies and his Blockbuster card to the young girl waiting behind the cash register, and waited patiently for her to check each and every tape before handing them to him.  

            Then he felt it.  That all too familiar feeling.  He was about to sneeze.  He attempted to bring his finger up to his nose in the same manner he had seen cartoon characters do many times, but he was too slow.  His last thoughts before the vision hit him were,

            "John, how could you be so stupid?"

            _He was warped into a hospital room.  It was your normal, average hospital room.  There was nothing particularly special about it.  The cashier was lying in the bed asleep.  The girl's father was sitting on a chair directly across from the bed.  Her hands were firmly engulfed in his.  _

_            "Of all things," he said quietly to himself, "It had to be Pneumonia."_

The vision ended then, and he was back in the video rental place.

            "Did you hear me sir?  Sir?" she said as she handed him his videos.

            "What?  Oh, thanks," he replied dazedly.

            He felt really hot.  He new his face had to be flushed, and it hurt to draw in a breath.  This was all he needed.  Pneumonia after an asthma attack.  Perfect.

            He stumbled out to his car, and quickly sat in the driver's seat.  He sat there for a few minutes until the feeling passed.  He had observed that it had taken him a smidgeon bit longer to recover from this vision than the one before.   It looked like he was really going to have to become Willy Wonka for a week, or better yet, Charlie's grandfather.  And by that he meant the one who was bed ridden until Charlie received his golden ticket.  This was really not going to be fun.


End file.
